The Invisible Amateur Page 5

  36 Galsworthy Avenue, E14

  She finished before Sebastian realised what she had. He patted his pocket and laughed.

  “Well done, Amelia. You're getting good at this. My brother would be pleased.”

  “Pleased about what?” Myron asked from the doorway. Amelia felt her heart race. She had no idea how to explain what his younger brother had just said. Thankfully, Sebastian had no problem talking.

  “Amelia here, has just successfully lifted the address you need from me with nothing but her feminine charms to disguise her true intentions.”

  Amelia wasn't surprised that Sebastian had chosen to emphasise this point.

  “She seduced you?” Myron sneered but didn't look her way.

  “I didn't go that far, and I masked the lift further by placing this card in his pocket. He's been teaching me, since I'm in London with little to do.”

  “How appropriate,” Myron replied when he'd taken in the picture on the face of the card. Not once did he look at her, and she felt her temper rise at the insinuation until she wasn't sure she could control her mouth.

  “I have to keep myself busy learning something when people are trying to harm me and no one seems to think I ought to know. Every little thing I learn that might make me safer or keep me alive is worth my time.” She kept her voice even but her annoyance was unmasked. “And let's face it, seducing either Holmes brother is an achievement. You can't blame a girl for wanting to try the challenge.”

  An awkward silence followed her outburst. It didn't take her long to regret it. Myron never liked emotional displays. When no one said anything and both of them were looking at her, she remembered she had the piece of paper with the address on. As a sort of peace offering, she held it out to Myron. He didn't thank her as he took it.

  “You owe me,” Sebastian said as Myron memorised it and threw it into the fire. She ran it through her head again, wondering if it would be useful to remember and deciding not to take the chance either way. “And I think we should go immediately.”

  Sebastian grabbed his scarf, but Myron shook his head and held his hand up.

  “No, not yet.”

  “There will be lots of them. Whatever you're planning, you'll need my help, and you know it.”

  “We can't go yet. I'll inform you when I'm ready to.”

  “Why not?” Amelia stepped forward, aware that neither Holmes brother was going to budge without some encouragement.

  “Because there's more to this problem than we've been told. What has changed, brother of mine?” Sebastian folded his arms and Myron looked furiously at him, but moved towards the door.

  “They have something, don't they? Something they're not meant to.”

  Myron stopped in his tracks and faced his brother. He was calm, but she could see the desire to throttle his younger brother was still there.

  “It's the only obvious reason for not going right now. They have something, and until you figure out what – or if you already know that part, retrieve it – you can't go and arrest them all.”

  Myron nodded and came back over to sit down in the armchair. A few seconds later Sebastian sat down opposite, and Amelia realised she'd been forgotten. Even when she moved closer, they didn't even glance her way.

  “I started to suspect when you didn't nag me to encourage our little lead to scamper back to the main hutch, but you confirmed it when I came to see you yesterday. You wouldn't keep Amelia in danger if she didn't need to be.”

  “So I'm bait?” Amelia asked. Both of them looked at her and glared, making her regret the question.

  “I've been asked to back off and leave the Russians and North Koreans alone,” Myron finally explained to his brother.

  “Surely not while London is in danger?”

  “London's not in danger.”

  “But I am,” Amelia said, finishing Myron's implication. He nodded but had the good grace to look a little guilty. “Who would want to hurt me?”

  “You're a complication in the earlier encounter, an unknown and a loose end to be tied up,” Sebastian said without any hint of sensitivity. It was a good thing she wasn't surprised by the news and had recently faced enough difficult situations with the Holmes brothers that she had some confidence in their ability to protect her. The panic that threatened to overwhelm her at the news was held back from her mind by the comfort of their presence but she knew it was close to showing. In front of Myron, she couldn't allow that.

  “So what am I being traded for?” she asked when no one else said anything.

  “These days, probably information.” Sebastian looked to his brother to get him to confirm the prognosis. After a few seconds, Myron nodded.

  “What information?” Amelia came a few steps closer and leant against Sebastian's desk, from where she could see both men's faces.

  “That's why we aren't making our move yet; my brother doesn't know. But the order could only have come from the royal family. They're the only people Myron answers to, and there's only one thing the family care about more than their country.”

  “Family. It's always family.” Amelia shook her head in annoyance. “So it's a secret of some kind, and we need to find out what and where they got it from before we deal with them, right?”

  “Correct, Amelia.” Sebastian smiled. In response, she fetched her laptop from her bag and turned it on.

  “No.” Myron gave her a pointed look. “I'm going to sort this out and ensure, whatever secret these terrorists have, that it remains a secret and out of their hands.”

  “It's my life on the line here. I won't let you deny me the right to try and keep myself alive.”

  Myron looked like he might have her thrown out, but Sebastian shrugged and went to his usual case board to start building up what they knew. If Sebastian was going to include her, she knew it gave the elder brother little choice but to allow it. Now she only had to impress them both. No pressure at all. And no reason why her hands should be shaking as she started typing her first search term.

  Chapter 7

  Despite the late hour, Mycroft didn't feel tired. His mind was abuzz with information and his body was appreciating the constant supply of tea Mrs Wintern kept supplying the three workers with. He needed to keep his mind and body alert.

  Sherlock and Amelia were doing their best to find the information and who had leaked it while he sat and listened. It would be a tough task to ensure they found enough to let him know what he needed to acquire back off the Russians but not enough that they worked out what the exact nature of the secret was. It was unhelpful enough that his younger brother had worked out it was the royal family, although the leap wasn't a difficult jump for sound logic. They were the only people he answered to in any shape or form.

  Mycroft watched Amelia type away on her small laptop at the desk. Given how recently she'd discovered the intent of the Russians towards her, she was coping well. He'd feared tears or an emotion even worse, but she was using the threat as a channel to achieve, something not many people found easy.

  He hadn't appreciated her outburst when he'd arrived, but he knew his own prickle of jealousy had caused it. He took a certain satisfaction in the statement she'd made a couple of months earlier, when assuring him that she preferred him to his younger brother. If nothing else, it showed she had taste enough to look past appearances and even social awkwardness. His brother was the more attractive of the two of them by normal standards. Although both were tall and dark-haired, and he was always the more immaculately attired of the two of them. Sherlock had the better face and the better social skills.

  Finding her flirting with Sherlock and then having his younger brother delight in the attention had tugged at a nerve. She'd come to him for tuition and learning, and now Sherlock was the one she appeared to favour. Just when he'd started to feel like training her might be a task worthy of his time.

  He also hadn't missed the comment of his younger brother's about her pleasing him with her progress. At some point, Sherlock had been told or
worked out he had agreed to teach her. That sentence made sense in no other circumstance and he didn't think she would have missed that little detail either. Even she wasn't that stupid. His younger brother knew, and Amelia was aware of that, yet she hadn't told him.

  “I think I've found something,” Amelia said, disturbing both Holmes brothers from their thoughts. Sherlock beat Mycroft to her side, and she allowed him to take the laptop from her with whatever she'd learned.

  “That might be it,” Sherlock replied, not taking his eyes from the screen.

  “It's a forum I sometimes go to when I want to check facts to do with the royal family.”

  “Let me see,” Mycroft said and held out his hands. When Sherlock didn't respond, Amelia got up from the desk, took the device from him and brought it over to Mycroft. She perched on the arm of the chair and pointed at the forum post she'd noticed.

  The royal family must have secrets, right? My sister worked for them a while back and she said they are a close family but not perfect at all. I'm sure some people would pay for the secrets they keep. There would be such a scandal if some of them were exposed.

  “It's in a thread about the similarities between the royal family members, most of which are suggesting some form of incest, but this guy posts this one comment and that's it. No posts before or since.”

  She then moved the cursor and clicked on his username. A profile that had a cat as the picture and only an email in the information came up. It wasn't a perfect lead, but the post was suggestive and it was better than no lead at all.

  “I think it might be worth emailing him and seeing what he knows, don't you?” She gave him a smug grin as he nodded and passed the device back to her. When she didn't move, he coughed. Sherlock glanced their way and laughed.

  “I don't think brother of mine knows what to do when he's forced to share a chair.”

  Amelia let a wry smile flicker across her face before she moved back to the desk. While she responded to the message, her fingers flew over the keyboard, typing almost as fast as his own assistant could.

  “Done. I've told him I'm very interested in what he might know and want to meet as soon as possible to discuss it. I said I was doing some research for a fiction novel but wanted it to be as realistic as possible. Mostly true, but not quite.”

  Mycroft nodded at the information but inwardly he seethed. This wasn't how he'd wanted the situation resolved. Amelia was far too involved, and now she would have to be the one to meet this guy, assuming he agreed to talk to her.

  “Now what?” Amelia said and turned to him.

  “We wait.” Sherlock came over from his case board and sat down again. “Are you going to stay with us, Myron, or should we just report to you when we've done the hard work for you?”

  “I'll stay. The sooner this is resolved the better.” Mycroft gave his brother a fake smile, which Sherlock dutifully returned. Amelia's yawning broke the awkward silence before it could get going.

  “Well, if you two are going to keep awake I might take a nap. There's no knowing when we'll get a reply.”

  “Really? You don't want to finish up our little lesson?” Sherlock asked. “We can show my brother what you've learnt.”

  “I'm sure Myron has no desire to see me try to pick your pocket or anything like it, for that matter.”

  “On the contrary. If you're as gifted as my brother claims, Miss Jones, I'm very curious.” Mycroft knew she'd felt awkward and wanted to see exactly what she'd been doing with his brother. At the least, it made her squirm, destroying the smug air she'd had for over an hour, and at most, it might prove useful in his own training of her.

  Sherlock put his coat on and stood in the centre of the room with his eyes closed. After composing herself, Amelia glided towards him and tried to slip the familiar card into his pocket without him noticing. Just as she was pulling away she made a noise with one foot on a creaky floor-board. The sound gave her away, but the motion hadn't. Despite that, Sherlock grabbed for her and had her wrist locked in his grip less than a second later. She pouted in response.

  “Close,” he said, a sparkle in his eyes.

  “If it wasn't for the floor, I'd have managed that one.”

  “Perhaps, but I'd have noticed,” Mycroft said, interrupting their little moment. She turned her pouting expression to him.

  “Care to take a wager on that?” Sherlock held out a stack of twenty pound notes. Without even working out how many were there Mycroft nodded and stood up. If Amelia objected to being put to the test, she didn't protest. Instead, she stood off to the side as Sherlock instructed him to stand in the same spot. After fixing his eyes on her for a moment and seeing the look of doubt she couldn't hide, he closed his eyes.

  Instantly, his other senses took over from his sight, and he became more aware of every little breeze and scent playing across the room. Amelia's sweet but gentle perfume lingered beside less pleasant smells, but he focused on the nicest of the fragrances, knowing its strength would signal her approach. He also concentrated on the feel of air moving around him.

  A few seconds later, he reached out and felt his fingers close over Amelia's wrist. He opened his eyes to see her looking up at him. The card was in his pocket but he'd stopped her with her hand only inches away.

  “It seems you've won, Myron,” she said and he caught a slight flicker of an emotion he wasn't expecting in her eyes before she went back to her usual self.

  As Sherlock was counting out the money into his hand, Amelia's laptop let out a shrill sound. Instantly, her booted feet hurried across the carpet towards the device.

  “That was quick,” she said after scanning a few lines. “He is willing to meet. He's specified the location. At a fast food place not far from here, but he's left the time up to me. Says it's open all the time.”

  Sherlock hurried over to read the message and handed her the jacket she'd placed over the arm of the nearest chair.

  “Tell him you'll see him there in fifteen minutes and give him something to identify you by. We'll go now.”

  Less than a minute later all three of them were going down the stairs, and Mycroft found himself unhappy about the arrangement. It couldn't be helped that Amelia was meeting the informant. Given the circumstances and the little they knew, she was the best suited to the task, but it annoyed him that his younger brother was joining them. He could have instructed her to complete this part of the task for him.

  “I'll get a taxi. See you there,” Sherlock said as soon as they were in the cold night air. Amelia looked to Mycroft and shrugged. When Daniels opened the door to his car, he motioned for her to go first. At least she was cooperating, and he knew she had a point. It was her life being threatened, so while she was useful he might as well let her help.

  “I'll sit near you when you meet this guy, but you can wear this,” he said, and handed her a little microphone. She pinned it to the top of her corset waistcoat, where only her eyes would be able to see it, as he placed the counterpart technology in his ear.

  “So you can hear what I'm saying?” she asked. He nodded.

  “Get him to say what little he knows and if he's already passed the information on to another, find out who, and if you can, with what device.”

  “All right, I think I can do that.” She exhaled and gave him a small smile. Mycroft then told Daniels where to go.

  They travelled in silence, mostly because he had no interest in talking to her. Once this part of the job was over, she would go back to the hotel, where she would be safe until he'd completed his task.

  She hurried out of the car ahead of him, and he hung back as she walked the few hundred metres to the corner and then around it, into the building. She ordered a drink and some chips before heading to a seat in one corner. Despite not being prepared as much as a trained agent, Amelia had the sense to sit with her back to the wall, where she could see the rest of the building. He saw her gaze flick to each of the exits and trace her possible routes to all of them before she settled back to f
ocus on her food.

  He took a seat with Daniels on the other side of the area, also making sure he could survey as much of the room as possible. When the informant approached, Mycroft wanted to see where he came from. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen, and Mycroft could only hope that it stayed that way. The less his brother knew about the situation the better.

  Daniels got them food and drink to help make them blend in, and sat eating the junk the establishment called food while Mycroft sipped tea from a cardboard cup and tried not to grimace at the taste.

  They had been there less than five minutes when a young male who barely looked old enough to shave, wearing a long wool coat and corduroy trousers, walked in. He didn't appear to be struggling for money, but that might not mean he wasn't. Often it was middle class and upper class people who were riddled with debt and unable to stop spending. Looking like a recently finished public school boy made him a more likely candidate for the role.

  His eyes roved over the tables until he saw Amelia sitting alone. Immediately his eyes lit up with recognition, and she gave him a quick nod.

  “Amelia Jones?” Mycroft heard him ask when he was closer to him. She nodded and he sat down.

  “So what's your name?” she asked when neither spoke.

  “I think it's best if I keep that to myself. At least until I know where this conversation is going.”

  “You made me curious, very curious. At the moment, where this conversation goes is up to you, but I would like to know what you've found and I am sure I can make it worth your time.”

  Amelia's response was a good one, but not perfect. She'd left the conversation open for the kid to demand she show him money, or even hand it over before he gave her any useful information. He hadn't given her anything and had no intention of reimbursing her if she did have to pay to get them a lead.

  While they were waiting for a response to this, Mycroft noticed the swish of a familiar coat as it came rushing by. Before he could react, Sherlock was right beside the kid and pushing him farther over in the booth to sit down beside and trap the boy in place.